


that one last tender place

by naughtyskeletonpuns (badskeletonpuns)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Claws, F/F, I GUESS.jpg, Non-Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robot Sex, Teeth, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Xenophilia, don't look at me like that, i like sentient lion robots okay, kind of, look who ISN'T gay for red at least a little, someone would have written something like this eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/naughtyskeletonpuns
Summary: There's a feeling like a fire, and Green does not want to put it out.Otherwise known the first Voltron lion NSFW fic that is entirely focused on the lionesses themselves. It's weird robot feelings and fire metaphors all the way down, guys.





	that one last tender place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kylanbb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylanbb/gifts).



Green is smart. She may not be as fast as Red or have the empathy or power of Blue or Yellow, but she knows how to get what she wants.

And she’s wanted this for a long time. 

Not for forever—after all, Alfor programmed the lions with many things, but this heat curling in the belly of her processors was not one of them. But they have learned, the five of them. 

Red’s feeling it too, Green can tell. The way the lioness throws herself into battle, guns firing almost before her paladin asks her to. The way she growls, full-throated and vivid with emotion, when Black calls them to form Voltron. Red understands how they need to let go of selfhood to become that other being, to be what the universe requires of them to be, but that does not mean she revels in the submission it needs from each lion. 

She shakes herself vigorously the moment they separate, for all the world like one of the living cats Green’s paladin remembers from Earth, ridding itself of water. 

Today their paladins are out of the castle entirely, on a diplomatic mission too delicate for the claws and teeth of the lionesses. 

Green huffs out a breath she doesn’t need, slowly waking herself from her mechanical slumber. 

She can hear Red stalking around the hangar bay next to her own, and calls out a questioning churr. 

Red goes silent, and there is a moment when Green is hesitant. After all, even she cannot be right all of the time. 

Maybe Red doesn’t feel this warmth. Perhaps the other lioness has no idea how it makes Green’s joints ache, how it sneaks through her armor to pierce the very center of her. The thick material—her paladin, she thinks, would call it rubber—that connects her plates seems to hold the heat in even more, until it roils and thrashes like a caged beast. 

Green snaps her jaws together, the harsh clang of it reverberating through her jaw and bringing her out of the spiral. Moping and uncertainty never won a battle, let alone the war. 

Red is still silent, and Green woofs softly. 

_ Are you there, Red? _

That muffled sound could be Red’s exhalation of exhaust in affirmation. Or it could be the castle settling, unused to motion after a thousand years of hibernation. 

This dance was not one that Green was ever taught, but she thinks she can figure out the steps. 

She hums, a low, soft note underpinned with a mechanical whirr that’s comforting in its constancy.

_ I’m here _ , it says.  _ I’m alive, and so are you. _

And then she waits. 

Every tactician knows when it’s time to let the other side make the next move. 

There’s the clash of metal on metal and the wall between their hangars begins to recede into the ceiling. As it moves upwards, it reveals Red with a claw on the (decidedly Altean-sized) control panel. 

She must be using barely a tenth of her strength on the lever, but it still strains against the pressure and force she’s exerting. Green would be lying if she said Red’s careful application of her strength didn’t make something spark across her circuits. 

Red could be brutal, careless, nearly volcanic. 

Here, now, she takes her paw off of the controls and sits still, eyeing Green as if she had all the time and patience in the galaxy. 

Green knows better, though. 

Red’s tail whips from side to side, glancing off the castle’s walls without so much as a scuff on herself or the wall. (If the hangar bays hadn’t been at least somewhat lion-proofed, the castle would never have made it through its first launch.)

Red, Green can tell, is nervous. 

She doesn’t want to admit it. Green isn’t planning on making her do so. 

Green crouches and cocks her head to one side. 

The lionesses have play-fought before, and Red almost trips over herself to get back into a rhythm that she knows. She chirps at Green and jumps forward, pulling Green down to the metal flooring. Green lets her and uses their shared momentum to roll Red onto her back and pin her there. 

On a whim, Green dips her head down to brush her cheek against Red’s. 

Red woofs in surprise, pulling her head back to get a better look at Green. 

Green butts her head against Red’s again and hums a long note. 

_ You feel it too, right? The flames licking at your belly, the way the burn feels better than any other kind of pain? _

The lionesses are quiet for a long moment. 

Then Red snarls and in a flash Green is the one on her back, Red pinning her to the floor. 

_ How do you know? Did you do this to me? _

Red’s claws are at her neck, careful against the vulnerable seams between the metal plates there. When Green opens her mouth to respond, Red’s claws shift, drawing along the veins of thick rubber that filled the seam. 

She sighs involuntarily, the exhale lasting for much longer than any biological creature could hold a breath. 

Red tips her head to the left, gleaming scarlet and wild. She extends her claws just a little further. The metal seems hotter than normal, sliding into the thick black connections between Green’s neck plates like molten steel. She shivers despite—or perhaps because—of the heat, a full-body movement that has her striking out with a hind paw and lashing her tail back and forth.

Green is growling, a deep rumble underpinned with grinding machinery. 

_ Do that again. _

Red sniffs, almost haughty in her refusal to take orders. She keeps a paw on Green’s throat and leans in close, sniffing at the underside of Green’s chin, the crook of her jaw and neck. 

Her breath is hot, and when it washes over Green’s already over-sensitive joints, the lioness feels as though her world is about to go up in flames. 

There’s a high-pitched whine in the air, and she is momentarily worried that she has never heard that alarm before. 

Then she realizes that she is the one emitting the whine.

Red huffs out something that might be a laugh. There’s a glimmer in her eyes, though, a spark like garnets and rubies. It lets Green know that the lioness is  _ not _ unaffected by this, no matter how detached she pretends to be. 

They hang on the edge of an unspoken galaxy. 

Red’s claws at Green’s throat.

Green’s eyes on Red. 

The tautness in Red’s limbs, the effort it must be taking her to keep still. 

The feeling spreading through Green like a wildfire leaping from tree to tree. 

She needs something else, something  _ more _ . 

Red is stubborn as matter itself. But Green knows how to wait, and over a long enough timeline, anything can be worn away. 

Green tips her head back, baring as much of her throat as she can. She feels Red’s hot breath on her neck again and can’t suppress another shiver. 

Red bites into Green’s neck. 

Her teeth sink into the soft black material there, sending electricity arcing through every connection Green has. 

It is like being unmade and made again, like the harsh light of quintessence is in every part of her, like being laid bare in front of her entire world which is nothing but her and Red, her and Red, over and over and over again, and she thinks she might scream. 

She does. 

At the sound of it, Red’s jaws tighten and Green can feel her tip over this indefinable edge as well. There is an eternity in those few moments and it’s unbearable and Green wants it back the moment that it’s gone. 

Red removes her mouth from Green’s neck and noses at the already-closing gaps in the black rubber as gently as she can. She whuffs softly. 

_ Are you okay? _

It’s as close to an apology for her loss of control during the bite as Red’s pride will allow her to get. Green accepts it gracefully. She churrs, a sound almost like a purr. As much of a purr as a multi-ton sentient robot lioness can make, at least. 

_ I’m wonderful. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is your fault kylan. all of it. also I have no regrets or shame in any way and might write more in a, uh, similar vein. >:3 leave a comment/kudos if it wasn't as weird as you thought it be? or if it WAS as weird, but you still had fun reading it. no judgement here.


End file.
